


Support Group for the Abundantly Abandoned

by Kitsoa



Category: BIRDMEN - 田辺イエロウ | Tanabe Yellow
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsoa/pseuds/Kitsoa
Summary: Tatsume assumed position in the large armchair facing the door and it became strikingly clear that the office of an associate professor was far too small for the gathering of four strangers.[For Birdmen Week 2017: Day 006- Loneliness/Camaraderie]





	Support Group for the Abundantly Abandoned

**Author's Note:**

> Remind yourself that every time you read a familiar name, I am talking about their parents.

The gold nameplates gleamed like street lamps in the dim morning light of the halls of the Tokyo University’s Department of Science and Technology. The rows and rows of staff offices were door to door with adjunct, full-time and teaching assistant work spaces alike, some propped open in a show of availability. The occasional flurry of keyboard clicks accented the light tap of  modest flats on the shiny slabs of white tile. It inspired thoughts of a countdown, clinical postings of the room numbers ticking away as a middle aged woman scanned in careful, but deliberate search. She came to a halt and squared the wood door. Gripping her purse tightly by the strap, it’s contents feeling rudely heavy, she glanced at a small business card in her hand and back to the door. 

_ Tatsume Naoyuki Ph.D. _

_ Associate Professor of Biology _

Affirmed, she let out a shaky breath and lifted a trembling fist. She rapped on the door softly three times. The igniting gear of the door knob was like the trigger of a gun. 

“Karasuma-san?”

The man who opened the door had clearly not slept the night prior. His eyes were sunken with the purple bruises of fatigue behind askew glasses, weary weight on every facet of his expression even as he acknowledged her in habitual professionalism. His forehead was graced with a smattering of stray hairs, loose from an attempted slick-back. He pulled the door wider while mindlessly smoothing the locks back, not in any show of appearance, but more as a nervous tick.

“Y-you asked to meet me?” Karasuma said evenly. Discomfort in the setting and the circumstance clung as stiff as the formal business skirt and blazer on her frame. It was habit of first impressions, though the honesty of her working a salaryman job was far from the image she would naturally present. It made her feel less out of place nonetheless. 

“Yes.  _ Ah… _ “ The professor spluttered with a contrived energy that didn’t meet his expression. He tossed his head around hesitantly behind the threshold, scanning the immediate, out-of-view area, before pulling himself back with the rest of the door.

“Please, come in.”

Karasuma obliged, feeling a tension work it’s way up her core, causing her to pull into herself ever so slightly. The office was small, a desk standing in the far back, littered with strewn-about papers, further peppering the floor around it in a display of passionate intention. There was a sitting area with an arm chair and a muted gray sofa, too close for feng shui, surrounding a low coffee table. 

Tatsume ushered her to sit. She found purchase huddled in the farthest corner of the couch. 

“Can I get you some tea? Coffee?”

Karasuma shifted uncomfortably. “Coffee please... Black.” 

Tatsume’s brow twitched in a strange way at her answer, like the ghost of amusement passing through. Unsure how to read him and jarred by the knock of potent offense, she pulled the strap of her purse off her shoulder with a distinctly ill feeling in her chest and looked away towards a random corner of the room. 

“I’m sorry. Your son likes his coffee black too.”

The mention of her son brought a wave of feelings and thoughts. First came the rock hard stones that dropped from her mind to her stomach. Wings, massive and dark consuming her dining space, consuming her son. His face staring directly at her for the first time in ages. Her screams echoing through the house and out the window where he had long vanished. Then seeped the questions laced with hostility she had no heart to bear. 

Who was her son to this man? Could she trust him to tell her the truth? What was her son doing drinking coffee?

She chose not to answer.

“Sorry for the mess.” He offered as he moved to a coffee machine behind his desk. “I lost track of time.”

It had been 2 am when she called the number on his business card. Her voice thick and shaky as she forced an introduction to the stranger on the phone. She hadn’t intended he answer at the hour, but by the sound of his voice, taut and carefully placed, he was as awake and troubled as her. The meeting was set up with little preamble. The only elaborations on his identity past his name and title was a phrase of befuddling implications.

_ ‘I’m an adult your son chose to help him through his situation.’ _

Tatsume worked his way to the sitting area with two steaming cups of coffee, setting on the table with a delicate level of deliberation before sitting down in the armchair. Her son chose to trust him. Eishi left his business card with his goodbye note, simply asking for her to contact him. She expected answers about her son’s leaving from this meeting, but she could only find herself fixated on ‘ _ why him? _ ’

She couldn’t find the strength to honor the intent of her son. She had never made a habit of it before.

“I guess it’s important to start off with some clarifications: How much did your son tell you?”

He knew so much more than her. The numbness that had filled her since dawn broke that morning was cleaved by a piercing sense of irritation. His gaze was earnest, seeping out a blanket of sympathy as he waited for her response. There was also a deep pain clear on the line of his mouth.

She pushed her irritation aside and reached for her purse, procuring a piece of line paper, creased at odd corners from the travel. 

“He showed me his… wings.” She presented his note.

“And he just left?” Tatsume scowled as he flickered through his brief message. Karasuma wondered too late if showing him the note was appropriate. He mentioned his father in it. Though, who knows how much this man knows. She wanted to fire his question right back at him as he handed the note back. 

“W-What… is the… Birdman?” She found herself struggling to piece together the question she wanted answered. The most obvious breach of her center of logic won out. Tatsume gave a sad smile.

“I am very willing to tell you, Karasuma-san. But in the interest of distributing information evenly, I was hoping if we could wait for the others to arrive first.”

Karasuma stopped. “Others?”

Tatsume gave paused, staring at his closed office door “Yes. I’m actually going to check to see if they are here.”

He left the woman with her cup of coffee to open the door that gingerly. Karasuma didn’t have the mind to look as she was mulling over the development. More people? Who need to be suddenly debriefed on the subject of the Birdman. The voice at the door belonged to an elderly woman, strung tight in an attempt to sound more assertive. It rose in pitch the longer it pushed on. 

“Would you please explain why I’ve been directed to  _ your _ counsel in the wake of Bocchan’s  _ empty bed _ ? I do not appreciate the cryptic run-around of having to meet you in person when a situation as  _ dire  _ as his absence is happening. His father is an extremely powerful person--”

“Ma’am!” Tatsume cut her off with pacifying gestures in his hands. “I assure you that there is an explanation. Please!” 

The woman was short with her hair in a tight gray bun that added a meaningless unit of height to the top of her head, but inspired that prim sense of control that Karasuma rather dreamed of. Her age soften her persona nevertheless and with the combination of a dated floral print dress and round thick lens glasses she had all the makings of a kind grandma. The fire from her mouth belied those appearances. She was furious.

“Come inside. I promise to explain when everyone is here.”

The elderly woman, surprisingly spry charged forward at his offer, the demand for her answers far greater than any uncertain proposition. She made no peace regardless of her compliance.

“ _ ‘Others _ ?’” She reeled, moving into the room but making sure to keep herself square to the professor closing the door. “You mean to tell me there are more people involved? Just what is going on? I should have called the authorities…”

“I seriously don’t advise that Nohara-san, but yes there are two others involved in this situation.” Tatsume’s tone of voice was slowly gaining more energy, a contrast she only realized as he matched the most ignorant one in the room. 

“That sounds all the more suspicious  _ Tatsume-san _ . Whatever explanation you have will face mighty consequences I assure you. There isn’t an excuse in the world that could apologize for a child’s guardian not being informed of their charge’s whereabouts. And then to say there are  _ more _ ? Have you no shame sir?” Her fury was relentless and she had only managed a few steps into the office. Tatsume groaned, unable to allow a sense of tact and professionalism to block his distressed. He muttered something like ‘thanks for giving me all the work’. 

Nohara huffed, tightly gripping her bag (a rather expensive designer brand, a gift perhaps?) and evaluating the existing presence in the room. The elder woman then squared around the armchair and sat on a wooden chair to its right before setting her bag down and addressing Karasuma with the deliberate rigidness of a secretary. 

“Hello, I’m Nohara Nene.” Her voice was suddenly a million times sweeter. So she decided to trust her based on the context clues. 

“Karasuma Emiko.” She responded with a nod. Jarred by this presence that didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation…. Not that Karasuma understood much herself either. To summarize she, alongside the future arrivals also had their children up and leave. From that she could assume that Nohara’s bocchan had wings like Eishi. Though judging from her temperament Nohara probably never got the wing memo. The elderly woman seemed to be functioning under a pretense that this was a prank or an offensive communication error rather than the complete, multi-layered crisis that it was.

“It’s a shame we had to meet under these circumstances. Are you Karasuma Eishi’s mother?”

She was baffled at how she knew of her son. “Y-yes.” 

“Ah, he’s visited Rei-bocchan many times. It’s always a joy to see him with friends.”

Karasuma was ashamed to admit that she didn’t know much about any of Eishi’s friends save for the temple boy he sometimes had over. From the sounds of it, Nohara had witness something close. The woman continued.

“I just have to wonder about this situation... I go to wake Bocchan up this morning and there’s a note saying goodbye and this professor’s card. It’s troubling…” The old woman touched her face in worry, her large spectacles hiding her concerned eyes.  _ There _ was familiar sense of despair. It poked through the mask of control this woman had the skill to execute. 

“I haven’t told Master yet… I don’t know what to say.”

“Master?” Karasuma found herself asking. The more she pieced together the more the picture of her son’s life came through.

“Sagisawa Reizo, he owns the Hamada & Sagisawa Law Firm centered out in Osaka.  I am-- well  _ was  _ his secretary, but I’m currently in a phased retirement. I tend to his son while he is going to school in Tokyo.”

That was a  _ huge _ law firm. The thought of that wealth would’ve made Karasuma’s eyes green with envy had she not been emotional clogged with the anguish of her son’s sudden leaving and the confusion of the moment. But that explained a lot. Sagisawa’s boy was a job assignment to Nohara and she was staring down a big loss.

Tatsume tended to Nohara’s beverage concerns while they waited for the others, relative silence as Karasuma was in no mood to match the woman’s trivialized ignorance. Though there were choice moments when she let her guard down while rambling, knotting her digits with apprehension and scanning the room multiple times to get a better read on this mysterious professor. Perhaps it was denile. 

They were met with the final two guardians within minutes of each other. One was a woman closer to her in age, though her fatigued expression and dark circles made her appear older. Her dark hair was pulled in a low ponytail with little commitment, stressful fly aways framing an incarnate weariness that clawed at her skin. She wore plain clothes and approached Tatsume’s open door with a desperate plea. 

Help. Her daughter ran away. Her note brought confusion. She left your name. What did this mean? How could she do this to them? Could he help her?

She was easier to pacify than Nohara who seemed entirely rocked by the pure grief oozing from the new arrival. The woman, who Tatsume addressed as ‘Umino-san’, curled in on herself when she took her seat beside Karasuma on the sofa. She seemed to vaguely recognize the retired secretary across her, who soberly confirmed that they had  exchanged a phone call or two when informing each other of their charge’s wearabouts. 

In the back of her mind, Karasuma was piecing together the chain of connections. Guardian of a recent friend of Eishi’s and the mother of a friend of that child. Perhaps Eishi knew Umino’s girl, though the idea of him socializing with a member of the opposite sex was almost laughable. This made the final arrival lack any surprise though not for want of trying.

“I certainly hope you are not behind my boy’s little note here ‘professor’.” 

A great way to introduce one’s self that was certain.  A man, stout and bald, stood out in his black priest robes, donned with pride even in the public of the university hallway, though his scowling face belied such noble intentions. Kamoda Taizen ran the Buddhist temple near Karasuma’s home where she would pass him traveling to house calls on foot. Though she had choice memory of a strikingly awkward conversation in his home, sipping tea in a tiny temple sitting room as she openly criticized his delinquent son. He seemed to have the tolerance to permit their sons’ continued friendship, but probably lost a great amount at the panic inducing fear of an empty home and a sudden goodbye. Though, who knows just how in the dark he was.

“I am not the reason why, but your son--  _ all _ of your children-- thought I would be able to explain it best…” Tatsume pleaded in a low voice. The stress this performance was taking on him was clear in how he held himself, shoulders sagging. He put his forehead in his hand and took a deep breath, perhaps reminding the devot before him of a certain amount of divine patience. 

“Just... sit down... Please?”

Kamoda’s jaw was set. With a furrowed brow and a slow nasal exhale he relented, allowing Tatsume to lead him to the empty chair beside Nohara. 

Tatsume assumed position in the large armchair facing the door and it became strikingly clear that the office of an associate professor was far too small for the gathering of four strangers. 

He sighed. Gathering his thoughts with a hand to his temple before leaning his forearms on his knees.

“You all are here for the same reason.” He began, looking at each of the uncomfortable souls crowded in his room. “Last night, your children… left home. Unexpectedly.” Tatsume delivered the truth less like a scientist and more like a parent. His breath quickened as the weight of this task alongside the fatigue of pushing through his own anguish started to daunt him.

“I know your kids well-- I’ll explain how very soon-- and I know this was not something they would do so easily. So your anger and concern is well founded.” 

Karasuma watch the man struggle through pockets of bubbling emotion. Knowing his grand reveal she could see the genuine concern and shared sense of loss he felt. 

“But please believe that what I say is the truth.”

* * *

The resulting silence after the professor spoke his piece was a thick paste between them.

Kamoda looked aged. His gruffness leaving his coils of muscles with a wave of dumbfounded fatigue. In his hand were prayer beads that he thumbed unconsciously. He was a good kid. He loved deeply and shared generously. What could move him like this?

Nohara seemed shaken, her eyes flitting from person to person. In over her head with the truth. Her young master was a wounded but kind soul. Yearning for better times and the hope of an ended nightmare. He was so considerate it seemed unlike him. Though what does she know? How would she explain this to his father? Would he understand?

Umino held herself, staring into either a lost future or regret filled past. She pawed at her daughter’s letter, unable to understand the why even after every ounce of logic clicked into place. Tragedy loomed in sight. What did they even mean to her? How could she leave him?

Karasuma meanwhile felt incredibly small in the meager office. The scope of her son’s world and the weight of his life incomprehensible and far away. Alone. She never understood him and now she never would by virtue of their very foundation. Would she ever get the chance?

The strangers were rewriting their minds and managing their emotions. The air thrummed with a buzzing tension. Castles of thoughts erected in the crowded space between them. Small fires of doubt slowly drowning as the words continued to settle. As the clues began to align. 

While some of them knew of one another from the casual acquaintanceship of their children, their real commonality was that their kids were as good as dead in a bus crash last spring. That by some force they were alive, but lost to some greater definition of the word. 

Reborn. Not of them, but of something foreign and unfathomable. Leaving them hopelessly abandoned in more ways than one.

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda pulled a cop out at the end. Let me explain that the draft is like three times longer. Working through the variety of reactions to the multitude of rather unbelievable bombshells here and balancing the emotional toll it has on the subjects is... incredibly challenging. I just kept derailing the work left and right. Haaa. I must admit I was a little over my head when I thought to do this. I might revisit this in the future when I'm stronger!
> 
> Okay so at the end of chapter 42 its reveal to Eishi that he's essentially the only one who revealed his wings to his mom. Now whether this means that the other kiddos here still told them in their notes that they were birdmen is up for healthy debate but I went with them leaving it all up to Tatsume in escapist fashion (like seriously wth guys?? this poor man is still grappling with you guys leaving him and then you give him this colossal task?). There's a sly attempt here in my hastily characterized off screen characters to paint some of the stages of grief with each character.


End file.
